


Worth It

by Lost_And_Longing



Category: Death Note, Death Note & Related Fandoms
Genre: Bets, But He Gets Better, F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide attempt, L goes by Ryuzaki, L is a Dick, Reader has depression, Some Fluff, also some plot somewhere up in here, you'll see why - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-12 08:39:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13543710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lost_And_Longing/pseuds/Lost_And_Longing
Summary: "One month. If either of us hears Ryuzaki tell anyone of his never-ending hatred for you, you win 10000 yen.""10000 yen!? That's practically enough to buy a new computer!""...If, on the other hand, one of us hears Ryuzaki say he likes you..." Your coworker, Rai, smirks. "I win. Deal?"You eye the money. Think of all the different things you could buy with that. "Deal."Basically: you like Ryuzaki. He doesn't like you back.Apparently.





	Worth It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone thinks this idea seems familiar, I'm the same person who wrote Butterfly Bandage (But Don't Worry) wayyyyy back in 2016. So I'm not a plagiarist, in case anyone was worried lol. 
> 
> In case this is all entirely new to you: there will be suicide references (nothing graphic), self-harm mentions (again, shouldn't be anything too graphic), and depression. Although not every chapter will have these things in it, enough of them will that I will caution anyone that could be hurt by that to steer away. Any other triggers that might pop up I will notate at the beginning of that chapter. 
> 
> Other than that, I hope you enjoy!

You had never thought you'd make a 10000 yen bet that someone hated you, but here you were.

It all started when Ryuzaki walked into the Criminal Affairs Bureau of the National Police Agency and announced himself as the new special investigator. The position, according to some digging your coworker and best friend Rai had done, put him on par with the heads of most police departments. It also put him nearly equal with the Commissioner General - the head of the entire NPA. That knowledge, once disclosed to the entire office, caused an uproar.

You see, the organized crime division of the NPA was renowned for being a division few experienced detectives could get into, let alone someone as young as Ryuzaki - how old even was he? 22? You and your coworker Rai, at the respective ages of 24 and 26, had been the youngest members there until Ryuzaki, and you were both still on paperwork and coffee duty. Rai had gotten in due to mysterious 'connections' he never mentioned to anyone and you'd solved an infamously unsolvable case. So for Ryuzaki to walk in and declare himself as nearly everyone's superior was unprecedented, to say the least. 

What didn't help was how odd he was. He walked in the first day with baggy jeans and a white shirt with what looked to be a chocolate stain on it (at least, you hoped it was chocolate). He was barefoot and his black hair hung around him in complete disarray. Pretty much everyone who saw him the first day thought he was insane. It took the Commissioner General, Soichiro Yagami, himself to calm everyone down and assure them that yes, Ryuzaki actually was supposed to be there.

However, it didn't take long to realize what the higher-ups had been thinking in putting him there. Any detective working at the NPA was competent and more intelligent than the average person. He was on a completely different level. When challenged, he solved in minutes cases which took others days, and in days what took others weeks. He was uncanny in his ability to deduct everything from practically nothing, and within a week most of the office had changed from hating him to respecting him. 

What also helped was how...noble he was. He was awkward, sure, and weird, but his determination to see justice upheld no matter the cost was rare even among detectives. His sometimes offensive bluntness could be brushed off in the face of all that he did, as could the frankly alarming amount of sweets he ate...and his unkempt looks...and his strange propensity for creating miniature towers out of sugar cubes. Really - and this seemed to be the silent, unanimous decision of the entire NPA - anyone who could do the things Ryuzaki could, could dress, talk, and act however they wanted. They just needed to get the job done. And Ryuzaki was very, very good at that.

At first, though, even despite the stir his arrival had caused, nothing seemed to change. He only worked on special cases, leaving the everyday ones to the lower members of the agency. Maybe everyone tried a little harder whenever he wandered through their part of the office, and maybe lunch break had become more of a 'gawk at the amount of cake Ryuzaki can fit in his mouth' break, but other than that things were much the same. Rai and you trudged through the usual heaps of paperwork; you and Rai poured the usual cups of coffee for the others every morning.

And then, two months after he arrived, Ryuzaki asked everyone to come into the conference room for a meeting.

Not really knowing what to expect from the man you'd only ever spoken to in passing, you nervously filed in with everyone else and found a seat. The Commissioner General sat at the head of the table. The space in front of him was bare of any sort of notes and his expression unreadable. Apparently he wouldn't be assisting Ryuzaki in this meeting, and apparently Yagami knew what Ryuzaki was going to talk about well enough that he didn't see the need to take notes. Interesting.

Ryuzaki stood up next to the projector screen, hands shoved into his pockets. He was dressed as messily as always - sweatpants and a t-shirt - and his hair was its usual rat's nest. He didn't have any notes, either. You supposed it must be about a topic he was intimately familiar with. Perhaps he wanted to talk about his latest case? 

"Hello. I am Ryuzaki." 

There was a quiet murmur. Even if they hadn't formally met him, everyone knew his name. It was impossible not to.

"I'm sure you're all wondering why I've called you in here," he continued calmly. He shifted his weight to one foot. "To be frank, several different factors fell together in order for this speech to be given. One of them is my latest case."

You were strangely captivated by his voice. You hadn't heard him speak often, so it wasn't surprising you'd never really noticed how nice it sounded. He had a deep, almost drawling tone that was quite soothing to listen to.

"For those of you who don't know, this case had to do with five apparent suicides all committed on a Friday, each a week apart. What we found..."

Ryuzaki paused deliberately. A few of the senior detectives, the ones who often assisted him, shifted in their seats. "...Is that they  _were_ suicides. They were not murders, not in the traditional sense. However, the connecting factor was our culprit, Mr. Kei Watanbe. He was involved with each suicide. We eventually found out that he pushed each of the victims over the edge himself."

A tight feeling began to wind up your stomach. You swore you could feel eight-year-old scars begin to burn once more.

"I won't bore you with the details. All that needs be said is that he is now behind bars for five counts of first degree manslaughter. Justice has been served. Now I suppose I should get to the point of this speech." Ryuzaki's eyes scanned over the crowd. They briefly locked with yours. "I wish to speak of mental illness."

Instinctively, your nails dug into your upper thigh. This...was not what you had been expecting. 

"This will be brief, and not cover nearly anything there is to say about the topic, but I wish to say it anyway. I know that, perhaps, I don't have much right to speak on this. I don't wish to sound insensitive to anyone's struggles. But...there is evidence from three of the five cases that they regretted their decision. There is a good possibility the other two felt the same, but we are not certain. And so..."

He paused again for a moment and scratched his neck. It struck you abruptly that he was obviously not used to speaking in front of so many people. He was rambling and shuffling and awkward, and it was somehow endearing instead of irritating. 

"America's Golden Gate Bridge is a popular suicide spot. Over 1600 people have jumped over the bridge. There are two known survivors. Both of them regretted jumping the moment their hands left the rail. I know that statistics and stories aren't very helpful in instances like this, but I'd at least like you to give this some thought. All of those who jumped had families or other loved ones they left behind. Those five people in my case had loved ones. I know there are those out here who feel as though it's not worth it to keep living. But really, is it worth it to die?"

The polite attention that had been given to him before suddenly became razor-sharp. Everyone knew of Ryuzaki's deductive abilities. For him to plainly state he knew some agents who were suicidal instantly made the uncaring care. He'd never been wrong yet, and everyone sensed he wasn't about to break that record now.

"I've seen a lot of pain in my career. I'm sure many of you have as well. It's easy to become...hopeless. But there is good in this world still, and there is purpose in it. There is nothing worth hurting yourself over, and certainly nothing worth killing yourself over."

His eyes were strong and filled with absolute certainty. For a moment he stood tall and confident, before he slouched over once more into his normal posture. He shuffled a bit and began to move away into the waiting audience.

"Anyway," he continued, voice almost a mumble, "I just wanted to say that."

Ryuzaki dipped his head slightly at the obligatory applause that resounded through the room. You slipped out of your chair as quickly and smoothly as possible. Everyone else had stood up around the same time, so it was an effort to get through the mass of people and out the door. You nodded and smiled to a few people who spoke to you, giving poster-boy replies whenever necessary.

You...you really hadn't expected that. Ryuzaki seemed so emotionless, so apathetic to humans' struggles, that you hadn't even considered that there could be anything in that brain of his except pure logic. It seemed that, for the second time in two months, you'd vastly underestimated him. So few people would want to say the things he had; even fewer people would actually have the courage to say them. Ryuzaki really was unique.

But those words, those very same words you admired him for, had opened up something fragile inside you. You hadn't shown it to others for years and you wouldn't start now, so you needed to get to the bathroom quickly. You needed solitude to sort this out. Unwanted tears were stinging the backs of your eyes; it wouldn't be long before they revealed themselves.

"Wait." 

You paused. You weren't even a foot away from the door. 

You turned around to see Ryuzaki. Your heart plummeted all the way to your stomach. "Oh, Ryuzaki. Good job on your speech up there. Couldn't have done a much better job myself." 

Ryuzaki tilted his head, intelligence shimmering in his dark eyes. You wondered what he was thinking. "Oh? You liked it, then? What did you think of the topic?"

His tone was quiet and casual - the only tone you'd ever heard him speak in. But your brain tingled in warning. It seemed strange that, out of everyone in the room, he'd picked you to ask that. Sure, he could've asked several different people in the time it'd taken him to make it here, but why had he asked you at all? You were the most junior member in the NPA besides him, and he was so far your superior that it rendered your respective position differences laughable. You'd have thought he would've wanted to ask the senior detectives or other higher-ups. 

But then you remembered how he had looked you straight in the eyes as he'd declared his topic. Almost like he was gauging your reaction. You supposed he hadn't gotten a read off you then so he'd decided to try once more. But why? 

You lifted a casual shoulder, pinned a casual smile on your face. "Depression and anxiety and all that are legitimate concerns, especially since exposure to death and other traumas is unavoidable in our line of work. It was very thoughtful of you to address it."

"Hm." Ryuzaki's expression was just as unreadable as you'd made your own. You had no idea if he'd gotten what he wanted this time around. "I was examining your records a few days ago and I was wondering how-"

"I apologize, Ryuzaki, I actually need to use the restroom right now. Lady problems and all that." You gave your best version of an embarrassed smile, knowing no guy could hear those words without being instantly grossed out. 

It worked. A flicker of embarrassment crossed his expression and he shifted a little. But then - surprisingly - he tried again. "Of course. I'm sorry for delaying you. I just saw the results of that case you worked on a few years ago and-" 

Your chest went cold. "No offense, but that is absolutely none of your business." 

Ryuzaki flinched like you'd hit him. You felt a tiny pinch of regret but an overwhelming sense of panic and anger easily offset it. 

"Now," you continued, ignoring the voice that whispered you were digging yourself a deeper and deeper hole every instant, "I have something important to do. If you'll excuse me." 

"Of...course," he repeated. He looked dazed, disillusioned, and more than a little surprised. "I won't bother you again."

"See to it that you don't," was your reply, and you swept out of the conference room.

 

* * *

 

Ryuzaki was true to his word.

Whereas before it wasn't uncommon for him to greet you or ask you to photocopy something for him, he now seemed keen to avoid you entirely. It made you feel terrible and you regretted being so harsh. You couldn't, however, ignore that a smaller part of you was relieved. That case he'd asked about, the case that had gotten you into the NPA, was a very personal topic. For many reasons. Having someone as intelligent as Ryuzaki interested in it was stressful at best and terrifying at worst. So, although you wished you'd had the foresight to be gentler in your rebuff, at least it saved you from ever having to deflect again. 

Of course, that still didn't stop you from lying awake at night, bitterly wishing things were different. 

Here's the thing: weeks, bordering on months, spent around Ryuzaki had awakened an interest in you you'd never really had for anyone before. Somehow you'd started looking past his terrible posture, bare feet, and stained clothing. You were above childish crushes and romance in general wasn't really an option, but his intelligence was astounding and entirely magnetic. So although you wouldn't say you wanted a romantic relationship with him, something at least would've been nice.

Anything other than what you had with him now. 

You flopped down onto your bed with a sigh, staring up at the ceiling of your nearly bare bedroom. As today was a Sunday, you had absolutely nothing to do. Any laundry or household chores had been done yesterday. You were used to your work-less days being empty and dragging. An uncomfortable feeling of numbness always pervaded your entire being on those days even more so than workdays. At least at work you were used to pretending you were alright. Here there was no one to pretend for anymore. 

You forced yourself up. The bed squeaked painfully with the motion. You went for your laptop, intending to watch Netflix or YouTube or whatever would distract you from your head, but paused with one hand hovering over the power button. The thought of watching your 38th hour of Netflix this week sent disgust roiling through you. 38 hours of anything gets boring, even something like Netflix.

You glared at the black screen as though it was its fault you'd gotten bored. 

But if not that, then what? Everything there suddenly seemed mind-numbingly dull.

You lay back down and stared at the solitary crack on your ceiling for a few seconds more before grudgingly admitting to something: you hadn't exercised at all this week. Members of the NPA were expected to stay fit in case of emergency, and even though the higher-ups used you more for photocopying than anything else, you knew that included you. 

But did you  _have_ to? 

That same grudging voice in your head grumbled assent.

So, groaning, you dragged yourself out of bed and swung open the door to your closet. You were too lazy to go all the way to a gym, but a few mile run couldn't be too hard. You pulled on your most threadbare and comfortable workout clothes, tied on shoes, and headed down the several floors of your apartment complex, through the lobby, and out the door. 

The day was just cold enough not to need a jacket for, and the sun was bright and cheery. A pleasant breeze rushed past you as you started up into a slow jog to get your muscles warm. A few people glanced up as you neared them, and one whom you'd exchanged words with before gave a wave. You waved back. 

In all honesty, once you got your playlist going and a good rhythm established, running wasn't that bad. You actually enjoyed it once you got up the motivation to do it. There was something calming and quiet about it, a sort of serene stillness which enveloped you. You'd gotten good at tuning out the honking cars and passerbys along your accustomed three-mile route. Indeed, it seemed almost as if there were a pristine bubble surrounding you which separated you from the rest of the world. 

For the first time in a week, the numbness you'd grown accustomed to drained from you, replaced by a tiny but genuine smile and a sense of peace.  

And then the bubble popped. Everything jumbled together like a conversation you walk in on partway through. You were back on Earth, back in Japan, back...on the road, staring down a car coming straight at you.

As the headlights came closer, you froze. You couldn't help but wonder your true thoughts about dying. You'd tried before and failed. Now there was this opportunity right in front of you.

But then there came a shout and arms grabbed you and threw you backwards against the sidewalk. 

You landed sprawled on the ground, head painfully hitting the cement. Your hands and side smarted from the rough impact and your entire side felt bruised. Great. Just what you needed today of all days. 

"What did you think you were doing?" The words were practically shouted at you. The voice, familiar in its timbre but strange in its tone, caused your head to reflexively snap up. Your eyes widened in horror.

There, illuminated by the noonday sun, hair in wild disarray from the confusion and angry eyes fixed on you, stood Ryuzaki. 

"You could've gotten yourself killed!" His voice seemed strangely harsh and unpleasant when raised, perhaps because the tone wasn't one you imagined he used often. "What on earth were you thinking?" 

You just stared at him for a moment from your place on the ground, brain slowly swimming up to the surface of your muddled thoughts. You had no idea why he was so angry. If you'd been on better terms, you would've thought it was because he cared, but that could hardly be it. Why had he used that tone on a relative stranger?

As he opened his mouth to speak again, you finally mustered the strength to respond. "I...what happened?" 

Ryuzaki blinked, as close to being taken aback as he'd show. "I said hello, and I- um, I believe you ran into me. You startled, tripped, and fell forward into the intersection. I pulled you back after you froze."

His dark eyes latched accusingly onto yours. His arms hung loosely by his sides, but you could see muscles in his hands subtly working as though he were fighting not to clench them into fists. The bright sunlight set his pale skin aglow, giving him an unearthly appearance. That along with the anger etched onto his face made him unnerving, almost frightening.

You didn't really mind people when people got mad at you; you'd learned to take it all in stride and keep up your facade of egotism. But Ryuzaki's anger seemed to you totally unwarranted and honestly scary. So you pulled yourself to your feet as confidently and haughtily as you could manage with your skinned palms and bruised pride. You lifted your chin and met his eyes.

"Well, thanks for the blow-by-blow, Ryuzaki. I'm glad-" you hesitated "-you saved me. Can I get going now?" 

He gave you a long, considering glance, less angry and more analytical. "Are you alright?" he asked at length.

You blinked, taken aback in your turn. Somehow that simple question had robbed you of your haughtiness instantly. "Of- of course. I just scraped my hands up a little, no biggie. Much better than getting squashed, am I right?"

You offered him a tentative smile. Like with the speech, you hadn't expected him to say that. You kept underestimating him and it kept catching you off-guard. It'd happened often enough now you figured you might as well drop your attitude altogether. After all, if he could be concerned after you'd been so rude, he deserved better than a standoffish sneer.

"Mm. Yes, very. Well, I won't keep you any longer. Have..." he paused, as if searching for the right word. "...fun." 

Your smile unwillingly grew. You couldn't help but think how adorable he was. "Bye, Ryuzaki." 

He gave what you thought was a wave, except his arm was turned the wrong way. You returned it with your arm the right way up, and seconds later he was gone from sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 10000 yen is equivalent to around 100 American dollars, for anyone who thought 10000 yen seemed like an outrageous amount of money.
> 
> Also, there is a reason L's going by Ryuzaki and not by L...guess you'll have to wait and see ;)


End file.
